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Surgery

It's like stepping up to a golf ball. A white glove grips my left hand and an 8 iron dangles in my right. I slowly ***** my tee into the moist ground. I place the white ball upon it. I think of the possibilities of what could go wrong when I strike the ball. I aim. I breathe. I think: back straight, arm straight, mind straight. I exhale. I swing. Then watch and wait, like hearing that sharp drone and waiting for the flat line to waver so I don't have to say, "I'm sorry, but there were complications."
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Written by
lilly-bug
Published
Sep 24, 2011
Lines·Words
7·99
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